French kiss
by Neurotic-Martyr
Summary: Warning: slash/smut in future chapters. Napoleon, the soon to be emperor of France, finds a poor excuse for an assassin outside of his hotel. Despite Napoleon being engaged and Arno grieving for Ellis, they find physical comfort together. Please review if it's worth continuing.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- Basically I'm a hella huge fan of Assassin's Creed and especially Arno/Napoleon and Arno/Marquis de Sade but there is hardly any fanfics about it out, or fanart so I decided to write my own.

Every time. Every time something tragic happened to him he ended up at a place like this. A social club. He wanted to be anything but. All he wanted was the burning hot liquor to take over his mind and body, make him numb and invincible. Life is but a play or some bullshit like that. And the actor has but an hour in the spotlight before the lights dim and he is applauded off, forgotten and still. Was Arno's time up until now just his hour on stage? And now it was time to exit. That's probably how Elise felt up until her last seconds. No, she would have been optimistic about her exit, perhaps she would have regretted a few of her lines knowing she sputtered through them but her bow was energetic and full life. Ironic now that she is dead. And here Arno is mourning the end of such a performance with wine and spirits. He has consumed so much that he'd die if he took another swallow perhaps.

"You've had enough boy. I can't afford for you to sit here and die, it's bad for business!" The bartender scoffed, reaching for the bottle of wine that Arno was going for next. He didn't expect Arno to grasp his wrist, twisting it until he could see the bones pressing up against the veiny underside of his wrist. The bartender yelped out in pain, tears already springing from the corner of his eyes. "Hey lay off before I make you!", an extremist fuck grunted, smacking his hand on Arno's shoulder, gripping it tightly and throwing him back off the stool into the ground. God the room was spinning and he couldn't focus on one face, but they all seemed to be mocking him and threatening broken noses. "I'll kill- kill all if you! Give me back my drink- gah!" Arno felt a swift kick to his ribs causing him to cough up some blood and gasp for air. Damn it all, he cursed as soon as he felt himself thrown out into the cold cobbled alley, slumped against a hotel of some sort. The fancier kind. Like the ones he and Elise used to- Damn it he needed to find another social club. Could be even walk?

"Apologise sir, seems to be a drunkard." A guard pushed Arno to the side, apparently he had been in the doorway. He was pretty fucking sick of everyone pushing him around. He was an assassin! He grabbed onto the boot of the soldier and he growled, getting ready to kick Arno in the face when a hand laid on his shoulder, stopping the guard. Out from behind him appeared a shorter man, all dressed up in the finest military garb. Arno couldn't even appreciate it since he could hardly see anything.

"Arno?" The high ranking official uttered, not even believing this was the assassin he knew. What the hell? Was he even allowed to be drunk? Napoleon bent over, reaching out to Arno, only to have his hand smacked away. He could see his guards tense, hands ready to pull out their swords and end Arno's life. Napoleon cursed before grasping Arno by the robes, shit he was heavy.

"Let me go! Let. Me. Go! I need my drink!" Arno flailed around making Napoleon lose his grip. Everything went dark for Arno. Was this the spotlight dimming? Was his hour over? What a shitty performance.

A hundred things were buzzing around Napoleon's head. His number one question was Arno just passed out or was he dead? And if he was passed out, why was a grown assassin drinking to the brink of intoxication anyway. Quickly he got to his knees, pristine white military pants getting muddy. His hands circled around Arno's neck searching for a pulse. Thank goodness. It was faint but that was because he was drunk and unconscious. He was careful to not draw back his hood however, he was sure Arno wouldn't appreciate guards knowing his face.

That night Napoleon took Arno back to his personal quarters, not too far from the military base in Paris. He had a trusted nurse tend to his wounds, careful to strip him and wash his body. He had a few scrapes and nasty bruises but they looked older, definitely not from tonight. The worst injury was his ribs and stomach. They were heavily bruised and his ribs were cracked but not broken thankfully. There was no way to know if there was any internal bleeding yet since the bruises were in the way of seeing any splotches of blood coming to the surface. If he died then they would know. But Napoleon would rather not go that route. He dismissed the nurse, insisting that he could keep watch over Dorian. "Thank you miss. And will you tell the messenger to relay to Josephine that I will not be coming over tomorrow." He said, a bit of bitterness dripping from his lip. He was sure Josephine wouldn't even mind his absence. He closed the door and turned back to the sleeping assassin lying on his bed. Napoleon studied his body, mostly looking at the old scars. He had more than him. And some looked deep too.

"What are you up to Arno? Trying to get yourself killed no doubt." He sat on the bed besides the sleeping figure. "What if it hadn't been me who discovered you? You'd be on a mortician's bed instead of my own perhaps." He smirked, letting the back of his hand slide down Arno's cheekbone. It was rare that Napoleon let himself divulged in the assassin.

The next morning was anything but pleasant for Napoleon. He had received a letter from Josephine that reprimanded him for not coming home to his fiancee like he promised. Napoleon remembered the time when he was infatuated with her, willing to please her at every chance he had. Now it was less about romance and more about maintenance. French women were so...difficult. Speaking of difficult, he had to check on Arno. He wondered if the other was dead... pity if he did pass without Napoleon reprimanding him for stupidly drinking himself to death.

A/N- Heya guys! Sorry I cut this chapter short. I was planning to make it much longer. Please review and let me know if you want to see this continued. I was planning on smut hehe. Anyways please check out my tumblr for updates about me and my fandoms .com


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- yoyoyo hello people's, ready for another chapter? Warning it gets a little inappropriate! I've had some experience role-playing butt sex but I'm still mediocre so bare with me...

"Morning... you look... better. Thanks to me of course."

"W-where am I?"

"Irresponsible assassin! You could've died! Your lover gets killed and you think it's appropriate to get drunk while you still have enemies... I've known Elise and she wouldn't want... this." The French command waved his hand at Arno. He didn't care how upset Arno got. He needed to hear the truth. And what could the assassin do? He knew what Napoleon said was true. He could try and argue with the truth but in the end, it was still the truth.

"Can't a man mourn?" Arno stated, defeated.

"No."

Arno sprang up from his place on the large bed, too angry to feel the pain that sprang through his ribs. "You don't know how it feels Bonaparte." He seethed bitterly. "What if it was Josephine huh? Would you understand then?" His tone was poisoned and pained. At this Napoleon snorted and suppressed a laugh. Instead he decided to sit on the bed, ignoring Arno who was still standing. The idiot was going to injure himself further.

"No I wouldn't drown myself in drink if Josephine died... or was murdered. I'd get revenge sure... but I wouldn't be as irresponsible as you."

"Why didn't you just let me die then."

Admit it Napoleon. "You're too valuable for me to lose." He said simply, not bothering to even look at the incredulous look Arno was giving him. It was a fact. In the end the truth would always be the truth.

That was it. Arno couldn't take it anymore. He found his have wrapped around Napoleon's throat. "You just want me as another soldier! A pawn in your stupid game to become emperor!" There was so much anger in his eyes, it was like a fire.

Napoleon frowned, a fiery expression taking over his face that was getting redder by the second. Fucking idiot. He balled his fist up, ready to punch Arno on the side of his stupid head. Instead his fist connected slowly to Arno's cheek before grasping chin, bringing him into a hard kiss. Fire extinguished. The hand slacked, instead both hands of the assassin was now grasping at Napoleon's waist. Napoleon pulled away for a moment. "You ugh- misinterpreted" Napoleon meant Arno was too _valuable._ Arno grunted in response before he pulled at Napoleon's lip with his teeth. Their tongues clashed together, fighting for the upper hand. God did they both need this desperately. Napoleon was already letting out whines of pleasure that shot straight to Arno's groin. Who knew the commander could be so... wanton. His hand was pulling at Arno's hair, pulling it out of that low ponytail. He then grasped at Arno's loose shirt, tugging at it until the assassin pulled it off, breaking their passionate kiss for only a mere second. They were like magnets. Napoleon's nails dragged down Arno's chest, careful not to put too much pressure on his ribs. Even though he had already seen his muscles and abs that stretched down past his navel where he could see a light trail of curls, from last night. It was different now.

Everything was going so fast that Arno didn't even know when he got Napoleon to sit on his lap, legs wrapping around his waist, rocking back and forth. Their erections pressed against each other, strained for release. Not yet. If Napoleon wanted to be emperor, then he would be treated as such. With that he detached himself from the command's lips. Napoleon let out an uncharacteristic whine, at that Arno chuckled. "Someone's impatient."

"Go to he- ah!" Bonaparte gasped, nails digging into Arno's back as the assassin attached his mouth to a particularly sensitive area on Bonaparte's neck. He could feel his coat and shirt being peeled off, skin exposed to the chill of the room. Everything was moving south, his clothes started disappearing too until he was laying on his back only wearing boots with Arno hovering over him. Napoleon sucked in a breath as he felt Arno's head settle between his thighs. He nearly yelled out when he felt Arno's hot mouth kissing the head of his cock. And just to think it was Napoleon initiated this whole thing. It paid off handsomely. The commander tangled his hand in Arno's head, encouraging him, well... command him to take more. Arno complied but only because he wanted to see the snarky bastard a complete mess, writhing on the bed shouting his name. Having the man in his mouth was foreign, he had never gave head to a man before. Fucked? Yes, he had a fling with an actor who was playing the part of Juliet. He was a fail boy who he had to be careful with. He didn't have to be careful with Napoleon. The all mighty commander was short-yes- but he had a little muscle under his skin and could handle Arno. Even when his teeth grazed the skin of his member. Napoleon only hissed and pushed his hips further almost making Arno gag.

"Mercy! Gah- Arno!" The commander yelled out, feeling the stir of ecstasy in his abdomen. Arno quickly pulled away, not want Bonaparte to cum yet. "Why'd you stop?" Arno could hear the frustration in his voice. He could only smirk as he began to unbutton his trousers, his member springing free. Napoleon smirked slightly, looking up at Arno.

"If you expect me to take it, I want to be on top. I will be on top."

"I expected that. You can never give up control can you?"

"Of course I can. If I couldn't, I'd be the one fucking you, my dear assassin."

Watching Napoleon reach over and dip his hand in some oil over on the nightstand and start circling his fingers around his own entrance was probably one of the most sexiest things he'd ever seen. It took all of his strength not to push him over the nightstand and fuck him right then and there. Maybe next time. Napoleon's brows knitted together even he inserted a finger into himself, lubricating himself so he could actually take Arno in. He wasn't going to admit it but Arno was gifted. When he was done he began to position himself above Arno. He was a little anxious but mostly heated with lust. His cock twitched in excitement as he began to lower himself. Arno immediately grabbed Bonaparte's hips and ass, enjoying how fleshy they were. His head pressed against Napoleon's tight entrance, pressing in until he was halfway there. Both of them were now making lewd noises, the murmuring of names and obscenities.

"Ah!" Napoleon cried out, had thrown back when he finally fell on all of Arno.

He looked down at the assassin with lust filled eyes, too high to feel embarrassed. His member was already leaking profusely, thanks in part by Arno's blowjob. Slowly he began to roll his hips into Arno's, grinding his ass in the most sensuous way. What a tease. The military commander let his hands trail down his chest, brushing over his nipples and down to his cock, beginning to pump himself slowly. This made Arno groan out loudly and and roll his eyes back. Soon the pace picked up between the two with Arno bucking his hips upward and Napoleon bouncing down to meet his thrust. The room filled with the noise of skin slapping violently against each other and the smell of sex.

"A-AAhh-Arno! I-" Napoleon collapsed onto the assassin's chest, his orgasm coming out in thick white ropes. The other grunted, feeling his counterpart tighten around him and release on their stomachs. He only continued to buck his hips up into Napoleon, jerking the smaller man up with every thrust.

"Bona-parte!" Arno grunted, burying himself deep in the other and let let his essence fill his already stuffed entrance. Napoleon could feel the warm sticky mess fill him and strangely he didn't mind. Maybe he'd give Arno hell for it later.

"Thank you Bonaparte." Arno sighed, pulling out with a 'pop'. He still kept Napoleon latched onto his side however.

"Thank you? What, am I your whore now?" He laughed, burying his face into the crook of Arno's neck. He could feel Arno's orgasm leaking out of him. He liked it.

"I- I needed this. Not just the sex- which was incredible- but everything. You didn't have to pick me up and bring me back here-"

"Yes I did. But don't thank me just yet. You can thank me when you no longer feel guilty for Elise."

Arno swallowed hard. He would never forget Ellis, his first love, and Napoleon wasn't asking him to.

A/N- Hell oh guys! See you made it to the end of crappily written butt sex! Congratulations. It's three in the morning and 115° in California when I decided to write this so please forgive me! Anyways please review! And I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


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